.:Never:. [Luciano/2P!VenezianoxReader]

.:Never:.

[LucianoxReader]

Luciano: 2P!Veneziano

Flavio : 2P!Romano

Flavio appears, therefore some colourful language.

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(20:12 o'clock, Café Venezia)

You hadn't quite figured out what exactly it was – but whenever it concerned relationships, you were simply out of luck.

No matter how nice and seemingly perfect your boyfriend seemed in the beginning; as soon as you got together, you'd find something out about him or you'd witness him doing something that would immediately break up.

It was somewhat strange, of course, but you couldn't really find a reason for it. So you did have a bad taste in boys? That was basically the only possibility left, but that didn't quite make sense either. Because the moment you met them, they were honestly nice and funny people; by the time you grew to love them you were sure they were sincere and trustworthy.  

You simply sighed in frustration; there was not the slightest thing you could do about it, really. Your only possibility was to simply try to forget all of them. Trying to move on hadn't sounded half as bad the first time this happened, but after three relationships that were rather disappointing, you decided to leave it be for a while.

Which, knowing yourself, just wouldn't work out. Kinda on accident, you met him, fell in love with his character and dated him, albeit reluctantly. You did want to trust him, that was obvious, but you were afraid that he might be trouble, too. In the end, you were just very in love and simply wanted to give him a chance.  

But you had the nagging feeling that you shouldn't have given him his chance. He didn't do anything yet; and you had no doubt that he loved you. Trusting him proved to be difficult, though. You had to endure so much disappointment, you doubted that you'd really trust him unless you'd cross the magical two-months-boundary (which was, funnily enough, always the time you found a reason to break up).

It was interesting how you felt quarter happy, quarter hopeful, quarter doubtful and quarter scared. You really wanted it to work out, but the little pessimistic voice in your head chanted 'No good, no good, no good.'

It was your two-months anniversary date that made you throw away all care in the world. Obviously, you had crossed the line now and everything would be great!

...As if.

In any case, your spirits were high that particular evening; tat was until you received a text message that simply said 'Call me ASAP. Sorry, I know it's date night but it's important.'

Usually you would have ignored the text message, but it was from your best friend Luciano. And while the young Italian probably wouldn't have minded if it took you a few minutes or hours to answer, you decided to do so right away. Mainly because a) he was your best friend and b) because he probably wouldn't disturb your date night if it wasn't important – he knew how much you were looking forward to this, after all.

It rang only one time before Luciano picked up, not even giving you a second to greet him.

“Ciao bella!” He paused, before he once again kept talking before you could even utter one single word. “Ah, mi dispiace! È scoppiato uno scandalo. Una cosa simile non mi era mai capitata. Ho sentito una stretta al cuore: È reo di omicidio!”

“Luciano, you sound really scandalised and enraged, what's wrong?” He only ever babbled in Italian like that when he was seriously put out or nervous, sometimes even when anxious or excited. But usually not out of the blue like that (except for one endearment or two). In turn, you also grew a little nervous when he did.

“I – mio dio – you're right. I'm babbling, huh? Sorry.” You could hear him inhale and exhale slowly before trying again. “It's about him.”

“You mean – ” You glanced at your boyfriend who sat next to you on a bench, sipping his milkshake. “What about him?”

You knew that Luciano couldn't stand your boyfriend – they knew each other from somewhere and acted very, very tense around each other – so you prepared yourself for a ridiculous flaw that your boyfriend obviously had; Luciano liked to point them out to you whenever you had a relationship. He was probably afraid of loosing you, even though you reminded him a few times that you'd never leave him since he's your best friend. Not that he would believe you – after his father left him, his brother and his mother alone, he had developed quite the trust issues.

“Maybe you should go a few metres away from him. It's going to be a shock.” You gulped; last time he had said something similar about an ex-boyfriend of yours it was that the guy did drugs and had high debts.

Luciano always knew stuff like that, since his family – especially his brother; only his brother, you liked to tell yourself – had their hands in some very shady business. You couldn't quite say whether he was in an actual organisation, but you somehow had the feeling that it was better of you knew as little as possible about it. The thing is, you're friends with Luciano and Flavio; so naturally the both worried for you and did a double check on your boyfriends. And they never failed to find something. Sometimes, the 'crimes' weren't big enough of a thing for you, so you chose to ignore the warnings. For example, one of your ex-boyfriends was known to cheat on girls. You thought you might be the one to change him – you obviously weren't. However, judging by his bruises, Flavio made sure he had to pay for your broken heart.

And no, you really didn't know what kind of friends the brothers had that would do something like that. Like mentioned, the less you knew, the better.

You stood up and excused yourself for a second, getting a few metres distance between your boyfriend and yourself. “What's wrong with this one? Did he get in a fight once, Luciano? If it's not about drugs or something equally bad than I'm not breaking up over it!”

“He indeed did get involved in a fight...” He trailed off and you snorted.

“That's definitely not enough, okay. That can happen to every person! Jeez, you guys surely are over-protective.”

“..and he killed the other guy during that fight.” He said it in his rich, soothing yet equally lovely tenor as if he was already trying to console you from afar.

“W-what?” You just stuttered, shocked. “Since when did you know?”

“Fratello just found out. Are you okay, bella? Do you want me to pick you up, drive you home? You sound like you could need a bath, ice cream and some red wine.”

Your heart clenched at how darling and grown-up he was acting when you couldn't because no thought would be straight.

“I... he...” You felt tears escaping your eyes as you sobbed silently. “Can you come pick me up? We're at the Café Venezia.”

“On my way. Maybe you should try to break up with him while there's enough audience to stop him if he tries anything, mh?”

“I suppose your right, I'll do that.” You shuddered, tears coming stronger now. “Oh god, Luciano. Please hurry.”

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(23:32 o'clock, your flat.)

You sat on your couch, sobbing, hugging your knees to your chest.

In your kitchen you heard a few noises that made it obvious that someone was making hot chocolate. Once again, the break-up had hurt a lot – he denied everything so vehemently, and you almost grew weak until Luciano showed up, standing protectively in front of you, telling your now e-boyfriend off. And you lost every doubt about Luciano's story when Flavio's blond head made his way through the crowd and he coldly said that the police was going to 'give his sorry ass what he fucking deserves' and that he would regret being a 'fucking stronzo'. Since Flavio wouldn't swear unless deadly enraged, you were now sure the story was true. After a short talk with an officer who stated that they were looking for 'that guy' since last September, you felt relief wash over you: who knew what would've happened if it wasn't for Flavio and Luciano?

Flavio and Luciano brought you to your apartment, Flavio all the while asking if you were okay, if you needed something, if he should bribe the officers to make him hurt because he hurt you.

Then, the older brother left because he still had some work to do, and you were left with Luciano, who took – like always after a break-up – good care of you. You always felt so safe around him; unlink around other guys, who you always eyed with a certain distrust. But knowing the Italian since age four it was only logical to trust his strong hugs blindly, right?

“Some hot chocolate for the young lady. It's mother's feel-good-chocolate with extra whipped cream and marshmallows!” He exclaimed while handing you a cup of the delicious beverage. “Are you feeling a little better, [Name]?”

You nodded meekly. He took good care of you – more than one would be able to anticipate from most friends. It was a shitty situation, but he was trying to make it better and you were grateful for it.

“That's thanks to you. You're a great person, Luciano.” That's why you had a crush on him for six years now; but he always treated you like a family member, and your friendship was sacred territory, no need to screw that up like it always happened once you started a relationship.

The hot chocolate was empty far too soon and you set the cup down on the table. Your whole day had been so crazy, it seemed almost unreal. Almost, wouldn't it be for the soothing hand around your shoulder – Luciano had pulled you in an embrace, softly patting your hair and mumbling in encouragement. “You'll find the perfect guy, I'm sure.”

You laughed softly, hugging right back. “I probably already did – you are the most amazing man I know, Luciano.”

He pressed a soft kiss on your forehead, chuckling. “What an honour! You're the most amazing person I know, too, so the appreciation is mutual.”

A soft sigh escaped your lips. “I'm so blessed to have you in my life... Thank you for always being there and taking care of me. That's why I love you so much.”

You immediately paled as the words left your lips. That was uncalled for. He was an amazing man that saw you as a close friend, that could have any woman he wanted and that probably thought you were crazy to admit that only hours after breaking up with your murderer boyfriend. You were about to panic, to play it off, to say you mean family-kind-of-love, but he beat you to it, softly kissing your lips, gently caressing your cheek. “I love you, too, [Name]. Ti amo.”

Your heart beat increased and you thought you might faint with happiness. However... “Luciano, I – “

“I know, gioia. It's too soon right now. I can wait, believe me. I've waited these past five years, a few months won't break me.” He kissed you again, shortly, before going back to embracing, holding.

Again, your heart fluttered at one simple thought: Luciano loved you. He wasn't going to hurt you, wasn't going to leave you. You could trust him.

Still, you wanted reassurance, needed to ask.

“You're not going to leave me, are you?” You looked up at him, eyes locking with his beautiful indigo eyes that openly, lovingly met your gaze.

“Never, gioia mia, mai e poi mai. I'd never leave you.” He whispered reassuringly, pressing you close to himself, burying his nose in the crook of your neck. You couldn't see his delighted, satisfied, insane smile as he thought to himself that this was just so worth sabotaging all of your prior boyfriends; and it even was totally worth talking Flavio into killing someone and to pin the murder on this rotten guy that tried to snatch his precious [Name] away. It might have been a lot of trouble to do all of it, to set all of that up; but he had the connections, the disarming nonchalance and his craving for [Name]'s love. That was all he needed. “We will be together, forever.”